The Solomon Curse, page 29
“It’s their job to have the right attitude now.”
“I agree. But there’s nothing we can do about it.” Sam studied Remi, who was holding her tablet, a satellite image of the waterfall area on the screen. “Since that didn’t go anywhere, what’s the word on the caves?”
Remi had been looking for alternatives to parking at the village and traversing the ground to the waterfall from there.
“I think I’ve found an old logging road that ends about a half mile from the waterfall. If it’s still passable, it should cut hours off the hike.”
“That’s great news. I’ve been worried about how Leonid is going to make it. For all his bluster, he’s only human and his leg took quite a beating.”
“We won’t know for sure that it’s viable till we get there, but it seems like our only alternative.”
The sat phone rang and Sam hurried to the table by the sliding glass doors, where it was charging. He punched the line to life. “Hello?”
“Did you hear the news?” Selma asked, her voice concerned.
“Which news is that, Selma?”
“Another assassination. This time, the Governor-General and one of the members of parliament.”
Sam froze, eyeing the darkening harbor. “Which member?”
“Orwen Manchester.”
Sam closed his eyes and shook his head, then opened them and turned toward Remi. “When?”
“It just came across the wire a few minutes ago.”
“What happened?”
“Car explosion. The rebels were quick to claim responsibility. Said that the puppet of colonial imperialism had been executed for the better of the islands, as would be all foreigners responsible for the nation’s subjugation. I quote, obviously.”
“Then Manchester’s dead?” Sam asked in a hushed voice.
Remi sat up on the bed, her eyes wide. “What? Let me talk to her.”
Sam handed her the phone as she stood and padded onto the terrace with bare feet.
“Tell me exactly what happened, Selma,” Remi said, her words dangerously calm. Selma recounted the news. When she was done, Remi was speechless.
“Are you all right?” Selma asked.
“Yes. I think so,” Remi said. “We just saw him. Not three hours ago. We were sitting only a few feet from him and now—”
“I’m sorry,” Selma said.
“Thanks. I wonder if he had family?”
“Doesn’t say on the news.”
“It’s . . . it’s just unbelievable.” She looked out over the water and her gaze drifted to the town. “This spells big trouble for civil unrest. I’ve seen enough of this place to know it’s going to blow wide open once word spreads. Manchester was a moderating force—a voice of reason. Without him—”
“You two should get out of there. Now,” Selma said. “While you still can.”
“We can’t, Selma. Not yet.” She took a few moments to collect her thoughts. “Any word on the missing children?” Remi had sent her an e-mail earlier detailing their discovery.
“I couldn’t find anything. There’s nothing on the Internet. Which doesn’t surprise me—Guadalcanal isn’t exactly a hotbed of tech sophistication. Even most of the businesses don’t have websites, so it’s still a few years behind everywhere else in that regard.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“You really should take some protective steps. If rioting starts—”
“I know. I’ll talk to Sam about it.”
“Call me if you need anything. And please . . . be careful.”
“I’ll pass the message along. Thanks, Selma.”
Remi hung up and handed the phone to Sam. “Selma’s worried. She thinks that the island could erupt in another bout of violence. I think she’s right.”
“So what do you want to do? Try to get to the airport and catch the first flight to anywhere? Make for the boat?”
Remi shook her head. “Would it kill us to spend the night on the Darwin? And then head for the caves at first light?”
“Not at all. In fact, it seems like a reasonable precaution, in light of past events. I’ll call Leonid and Lazlo and have them meet us in, what, fifteen minutes?”
“And I’ll call Des and let him know he’s going to have guests.”
Twenty minutes later, the Mitsubishi was rolling out of town, leaving Honiara to its fate. The Australian-led peacekeeping force was on high alert, as were the police, and a curfew had been put in place for the capital, effective within the hour. The authorities had learned a thing or two over the last few rounds with the rebels and were taking a zero-tolerance policy to any instigating by their sympathizers.
Once on the Darwin, they settled in for a fresh crab dinner with Des and the crew while listening to the radio. The town was quiet, by all accounts, with only a few isolated cases of attempted looting that had been quickly quashed, and with official condemnations of the murders from various government officials as well as the island’s religious leaders. But most troubling were the early reports that several Australian corporations had suspended plans to invest in infrastructure for their operations in light of the ongoing unrest, as well as news that a bill was being sponsored by an opposition leader in parliament to nationalize several key industries. Manchester hadn’t even grown cold yet and his worst fears were being realized.
CHAPTER 45
It was barely light out when the Mitsubishi turned onto the logging road, which was overgrown and in poor repair but passable. An hour and a half later, the SUV ground to a halt at the end of the road, stopped in its tracks by a wall of dense jungle.
Sam held the GPS up in the morning sunlight and studied the screen. “Looks like we’re close. It’s a little over a half mile that way,” he said, pointing at the nearest peaks. “Think you can manage it, Leonid?”
“I’m a locomotive. A battering ram. Unstoppable,” the Russian said, his eyes red from a restless night at anchor.
“That’s good to hear,” Sam said. “Greg, you’ve got guard duty here.”
Greg had ridden out in order to watch the vehicle and ensure no harm came to it. He nodded once. Greg didn’t talk much, but he looked lethal with his weapons, a machete on his belt and one of the ship’s twelve-gauge flare guns in his hand, and they were confident that the Mitsubishi would be in good shape when they returned.
The waterfalls might have been closer to the logging road than the village, but the terrain wasn’t accommodating. It was tough going, with none of the game trails they came across heading in the right direction. They were forced to hack their way through the underbrush as the heat rose—cutting through the jungle and then pausing every twenty minutes to rest. Their clothes were soon drenched, and their water supply was dwindling at a rapid clip.
Eventually, they broke through into the clearing at the base of the large waterfall and sprawled in the shade of a grove of trees, studying the ridge for signs of another cave.
Remi stared at the sheer rock face and after several minutes pushed herself to her feet. “We know it’s got to be there somewhere. What was the final line from the diary?”
“‘The way lies beyond the fall,’” Lazlo repeated from memory.
“You can’t get much more beyond the fall than the ridge, so it’s a question of where, exactly, the entrance is,” Sam observed.
“Well, we’re not going to find it, lounging around here,” Remi said. “How’s the leg, Leonid?”
“I’m strong as a bull. I feel nothing but impatience at being denied the treasure,” Leonid said, his tone as serious as a eulogy. Remi held his stare and then they both laughed simultaneously as he struggled to rise.
“Perhaps a wounded bull,” Sam corrected with a chuckle.
“That’s not a terrible nickname,” Lazlo said. “Wounded Bull. It somehow fits.”
“I’m not so badly off I can’t overtake you, you colonial oppressor,” the Russian growled good-naturedly.
“Yes, well, save your enthusiasm for the hunt. I suspect you’ll need it.”
“You know,” Remi said, “I don’t mean to be negative, but I had a thought last night. What if the Japanese hid the cave entrance once the islanders had loaded in the crates? I mean, it’s not impossible. If they really wanted to conceal their stash, it would have been easy. A grenade, a mortar . . .”
“That’s a good point. But it would have left a trace, I’d think,” Lazlo said.
“Probably. All I’m saying is, we shouldn’t discount any irregularity in the terrain no matter how unlikely it may appear.”
The trudge along the base of the ridge was agonizingly slow in the blaze of late-morning sun, over the treacherous ground. They passed the two caves they’d already explored and continued east, eyeing the landscape. Near another small stream, Leonid pointed to the rise. “Do you see that?” he asked.
They followed his finger to a collection of boulders, trailing down the hill, evidence of a landslide.
Sam nodded as he regarded the ridge. “Could be. Let’s have a closer look.”
The group climbed across the loose shale, the stones getting larger as they neared. At the top of the irregularity, Sam and Lazlo scraped away at the rocks, prying with their machete blades, trying to loosen the rubble. Leonid and Remi stood back, letting them work. Ten minutes later, Sam looked over his shoulder at her. “There’s a space behind it. You’re a genius.”
“I just have a devious mind. It’s what I would have done. After all, they had no way of knowing whether the Allies would investigate every square inch of the island or not once they had full possession. Better safe than sorry . . .” Remi said.
“Let’s clear this and see what’s inside,” said Sam, now fueled to greater effort. Remi and Leonid joined them and in another few minutes a gap had been opened.
“Definitely a cave,” Lazlo murmured, gazing into the darkness. Motes of dust hovered in the still air.
“Want to do the honors, Lazlo?” Remi asked.
“You know, I just had a thought. What if they booby-trapped it?” Lazlo mused.
“I highly doubt that anything they could have rigged that long ago would still be operational,” Sam said.
“Fine. Follow me,” Lazlo said, his voice trying for a conviction he clearly didn’t feel.
They entered the cavern, trailing Lazlo, their lights illuminating the space, which was larger than the prior caves. The floor was uneven and stretched into the darkness, sloping lower as they moved deeper, with the surface slick in places from water dripping from the ceiling and leaching through the walls.
“At least it’s cool in here,” Sam said as they pressed forward.
“But no crates,” Remi said.
“Look at the bright side. No skeletons, either.”
Lazlo slowed as the passage turned to the right and he held his light up. Stalactites hung from above like giant fossilized icicles, dripping relentlessly, as they had since the cave’s birth. The team edged around piles of debris, where sections of the ceiling had collapsed over time, and soon found themselves in a larger natural chamber.
“But still no treasure,” Leonid reminded, his expression sour.
“Good things come to those who wait,” Sam said, turning slowly, his lamp raised in his hand.
“Look over here,” Lazlo called from their right. Their heads turned to where he was gazing into yet another cave through a smaller opening. “This appears to continue for some distance.”
“That would make sense. Remember that the legends of the giants claim there’s an entire system that stretches across the island. Those tales are likely based in some sort of fact,” Remi said.
“Then how do we find the right cave? This could take forever,” Leonid griped.
“What happened to Raging Bull?” Sam teased.
“Wounded Bull,” Lazlo corrected.
As they continued down through the caves, the temperature dropped steadily, and soon the oppressive heat at the cave mouth was a distant memory, replaced by a dank chill. Lazlo continued leading the way, Sam and Remi behind him, and Leonid bringing up the rear, as they edged along a narrow rise that stretched along the side of a tunnel-like passage, easily fifty yards long, the darkness at either end absolute.
The crash of Leonid’s light hitting the stone cave floor shattered the stillness as he cried out. The group spun to where he’d slipped on a slick spot and gone over the edge, dropping down the steep slope into the chasm below.
“Leonid,” Sam cried out, dropping to his knees, careful to avoid the wet patch. Lichen clinging to the stone made it as slippery as ice.
“Can you see down there?” Lazlo asked, his light trained into the black depths.
“No. It looks like it twists around,” Sam said, transferring his lamp to his right hand. “Remi, hand me one of the rope bundles. I’ll tie it off and go after him.”
“Sam?” Remi said, her voice low.
“What? Didn’t you hear me? He’s probably hurt.”
“Sam . . .”
Sam exhaled loudly and twisted around and froze when he found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol held by a tall islander a dozen yards away.
CHAPTER 46
Three men stood in the gloom beyond the gunman, machetes in hand. The islander with the pistol grinned malevolently and thumbed back the hammer on his weapon. The snick was as loud as a firecracker in the sudden quiet.
“Well, took you long enough,” the gunman said, and pointed the weapon at where Lazlo was trying to inch away. “Don’t any of you move.”
“We don’t mean you any harm. Our friend slipped and fell,” Sam said. “We have to get him. He could be badly injured.”
“Saves me a bullet. Now, don’t you be trying anything or I’ll blow your fool heads off. Any of you give me trouble, the little lady gets it first. Boys? Search them.”
The thugs made short work of a cursory frisking, confiscating their machetes and kicking their bags aside. The gunman kept the pistol trained unwaveringly at Remi the entire time, watching as she glared at him. When the islanders were finished, they manhandled everyone, pushing them forward. The gunman backed up, a flashlight in his other hand, while his companions directed them toward a dim glow at the far end of the massive space.
“Who are you?” Sam demanded as he passed the gunman.
“Your worst nightmare,” the gunman snarled. “You been sticking your nose into business that don’t concern you. Causing a heap of worry. That all over now.”
“What are you talking about? What is this place?”
“Shut up. No more talk,” the thug nearest Sam ordered, and gave him a hard push between the shoulder blades, causing him to stumble. Sam barely maintained his balance, his equilibrium thrown by the lack of a reference point in the gloom, and he could hear Remi’s breathing quicken.
“Don’t worry,” Sam said. His captor clipped the back of his head with the handle of his machete, knocking him to his knees.
“I say shut up, I mean it,” the man snarled. “Up,” he growled, kicking Sam in the ribs.
Sam struggled to his feet and felt the back of his skull. His fingers came away with a smear of blood.
“Sam,” Remi whispered.
He shook his head, instantly regretting the abrupt gesture and wincing in pain. The thug stepped back and raised his machete, the muscles in his arm bulging. “Move or I chop you right here.”
Sam staggered forward in the faint light. The others trailed him, as their captors radiated menace, machete blades glinting, as they made their way to a gap in the cave wall. Another armed islander stood to one side of the opening, watching them.
Once through the gap, they looked around in surprise—they were in a lit area. Cables ran along the wall to low-wattage bulbs mounted in industrial enclosures, wooden crates served as tables, a half dozen cots rested near one wall, and a marine refrigerator hummed quietly in a corner.
The gunman motioned with his pistol. “All of you. Sit down there.” He pointed at a clear area near the cots.
They sat where instructed. Remi quickly inspected the back of Sam’s head and cringed at the split in his scalp. Eyeing the gunman, she wordlessly withdrew a wad of tissue from her pocket and pressed it against the wound to stem the flow of blood.
“There are plenty of people who know where we are. If we don’t return, they’ll come looking,” Remi said quietly.
“Ha. You liar,” the gunman said, but Remi could see a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
“Why are you—”
“Silence!” the gunman roared, taking a step forward, bringing his pistol to bear on her. “I ask questions. You answer when I say.”
“Do as he asks,” Sam cautioned.
The gunman’s eyes narrowed. “You bring this on you. Why you here?”
“Here, on the island? Or here, in the caves?” Remi asked.
The gunman’s eyes narrowed. “You think I stupid?”
Remi shook her head. “No. I don’t understand the question.”
“Why you look for?” he asked.
Sam cleared his throat. “We’re exploring the cave system. They’ve never been mapped.”
“Lies!”
“It’s the truth. Why else do people go caving? It’s our hobby.”
“You make big mistake.”
“Why are you doing this? Are you rebels?” Lazlo demanded.
The big man laughed with genuine amusement. “Rebels. Yes, we rebels. I rebel!”
“We mean you no harm,” Remi tried.
“You come. Now you all mine,” the gunman said, his gaze roaming over Remi.
“There are people who know we’re here. If anything happens to us, it will be disastrous for you,” Sam said.
The man laughed again. “Where are you?”
“We gave our headquarters the latitude and longitude before we entered the caves. If we don’t reappear, they’ll come search,” Remi said, her voice calm. “We’re well-known explorers.”
